Adolescent Treatment Program
by Charlie Perks
Summary: What if Hannah had failed in her attempt to end her life? Hannah tries to contemplate her next move. Tony would have already sent out the tapes. She had to find another way. But Hannah isn't alone. Will her new roommate be able to convince her that suicide isn't the answer? Not a Hannah/Charlie. This pairing is purely platonic. Hannah/Clay, Charlie/Sam.
1. It's Nice to Meet You

Hannah couldn't believe the mess she had gotten herself into. Why didn't it work? She was supposed to be dead. But instead she was being admitted into a psych ward, because apparently she was "crazy" for trying to kill herself. If it had worked, she wouldn't have to deal with any of this.

"Okay, Miss Baker," her nurse said in the most condescending voice imaginable, as if she would break any minute. "This will be your room during your stay here. By the end of the week, you'll feel a lot better."

_Doubt it_, Hannah thought. But she smiled as if she appreciated all her help. Hannah wasn't planning on getting better, and was definitely not planning on returning to school. After what she'd done she couldn't just reappear; besides, she had already made her decision. She would find another way to end her life as soon as she got out of here… sooner if possible.

Hannah took a look around the room. There didn't seem to be anything sharp or dangerous, which is probably the only reason she's not strapped to the bed. The only thing that would be more degrading would to be trapped in a padded room. Then again, if she were to hit her head hard enough-

"Hi,"

Hannah was brought abruptly from her disturbing thoughts and found that she was not alone in the room. There was another bed next to hers and on that bed was a boy around her age. When she got a good look at him, she had to hold a gasp.

"Clay?"

The boy looked back at her quite nicely. "No, sorry,"

Hannah squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head before looking at him again. "Sorry, you just look like someone I know-well, used to know."

"It's okay," he said with a smile. What was with this kid? Nothing seemed to be wrong with him, except maybe being a little too friendly to be in a psychiatric hospital. "So, I guess we're roommates."

Hannah continued to look at him questionably. "Yeah… I guess." and then for some reason she thought of what would happen if someone heard what was going on. "The kids at school would have a field day with this." she muttered bitterly.

"What?" the boy asked curiously.

"Oh, nothing,"

"C'mon, tell me."

Hannah looked at him strangely again. "Why?"

He hesitated a minute. "Sorry, I don't mean to pry. People just say I'm easy to talk to, and I wanted to help. Plus, I thought it would be easier for you to talk to me then the therapist they'll assign you."

Her eyes widened. "Therapist?"

"Well, yeah." he almost laughed. "What were you expecting? You thought they'd keep you in a bed for a week and your problems would be solved?"

Hannah _definitely_ didn't think that, but she only shrugged in response.

"So do you want to tell me?"

_Damn_, Hannah thought, _this kid's persistent_. "Fine, but it's really nothing. Just a passing thought."

"Tell me anyway."

"Okay…" she began, trying to tuck her hair behind her ear out of habit, only to be reminded that she chopped it all off… all because of stupid _Zach_! "At my school, I kind of had a reputation. I was the school slut. And after going 'crazy' and ending up in a place like this I end up rooming with someone people would think I would have sex with."

It was his turn to look at her strangely. "…Alright…?" he paused before continuing. "You're in the hospital for what I'm assuming is a serious psychological issue you're having, and the first thing you think of is how people would react if they knew you were here, talking to someone they don't even know exists?"

After thinking about it, Hannah had to laugh a little. "Don't you see how screwed up I am?"

He laughed a little too before extending his hand toward her. "I'm Charlie."

She reached for his hand and shook it. "Hannah."

Their hands parted and Hannah laid back on her bed. She was just about to start counting the ceiling tiles when Charlie spoke again.

"So, Hannah," he said. "I'm guessing this reputation of yours wasn't rightly earned."

Her eyes widened again and she sat up facing him. "How did you know?"

He smiled. "I once heard that someone who really is a slut can't even admit it to themselves, much less other people."

It was scary how much this kid reminded her of Clay, even how he looked. But maybe he really didn't look like him, and her mind had made him look like that so she could open up to him. That happens, right?

"Well, you're right. I'm not a slut. Actually, I'm still a virgin, which makes it all the more ironic."

"Me too." he said.

She gave him a look again.

"Sorry, it's just… I'm the only virgin I know. I just thought it was interesting." Charlie explained. "Although, the whole sex thing is kind of why I'm in here,"

"Why? So horny it literally drove you crazy?" Hannah joked.

"No." he said with a sort of sad smile. "I was about to do… _that_ with this girl I really love and I had a panic attack. It turned out I was repressing the memory of my aunt molesting me when I was a kid."

Hannah's face immediately scrunched up in sadness. "Oh, shit, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"No, it's fine; it's good to keep a good attitude in these places." Charlie said, comfortingly.

"Yeah, but still, I shouldn't joke about why someone's in here. I mean, that's like Crazy Hospital 101."

He kind of just looked at the ground. "…Yeah."

Hannah wasn't sure why, but she wanted to make this kid feel better so she started looking for a change of subject. "So, you're in love with someone?"

His face almost instantly brightened, and Hannah knew she made a good move. "Yeah, _Sam_, she's amazing."

"So, Sam's your girlfriend?"

"No,"

"But you said…"

"Oh, well, she's my friend, but I've been in love with her pretty much since the moment I met her."

"So what took you guys so long to get together?"

"Well… we're not really _together_, and at first when I told her about my crush on her she told me she didn't want me to think of her that way. Plus she was a senior and I was a freshman."

"So… you're in love with her and she's willing to have sex with you, but you're not together?"

"Right," Charlie said firmly.

"…Alright…?"

"It's kind of a long story."

"Yeah," Hannah chuckled. "I got one of those too."

"Is it about how you ended up here?" Charlie asked.

Hannah shifted uncomfortably on her bed. "…Yeah."

"Do you want to tell me about it? You don't have to."

"Well… it really is a long story."

"We've got a week." Charlie smiled.


	2. Halting the Snowball

**A/N: And here's part two. I know i said it would only be a one-shot, but I got one review asking for more, and I'm just that easy.**

* * *

As it turned out, Charlie was alright. He was easy to talk to and a damn good listener. Hannah still wasn't sure how the rest of the week was going to play out, but she figured she could stick around a little while longer, for Charlie's sake.

But if she was deciding to stick around, even momentarily, then some things needed to be handled first. Lying in bed that first night she tried to think back. She had been admitted the morning after her... _attempt_. Her parents finding her passed out with an empty pill bottle on her bedside table was obviously not a pretty sight, because when she had finally come to, she was in for the longest, most emotional conversation she and her parents had ever had since the opening of that ridiculous shopping center.

Hannah had gone to the post office that morning to send Justin the tapes. On her way back she had also hand delivered another set to Tony's doorstep… TONY!

Hannah threw the covers off of her and reached into the nightstand separating the two beds. They had all been given change for the payphone down the hall. Glancing at the clock she saw it was a little past one in the morning, but this was too important to ignore.

With how long mail took to deliver, the tapes were to arrive at Justin's place tomorrow morning and, as things were now, that could _not_ happen.

She collected a few quarters before tiptoeing her way to the door. She glanced back to see Charlie, lying on his back on the twin bed next to hers, slightly frowning in his sleep.

Promising to herself to investigate later, she inched out of the room, glancing both ways down the dimly lit hall, awash in the clinical whiteness of any hospital. Seeing she was alone she sprinted the length of the corridor by her toes, still trying to avoid unnecessary noise.

She deposited two coins into the slot and punched in Tony's cell number, silently thanking herself for not relying too heavily on just the programmed contacts in her phone. She had a passing thought while the phone rang; how she became so committed to memorizing numbers because of how determined she was to get her first kiss from Justin… _What a joke._

He answered the phone on one of the last possible rings. It was obvious he had been asleep, because he had sounded extremely groggy when he asked, "Hello? Who is this?"

"T-Tony, it's Hannah."

All sleepiness abandoned the voice as he spoke after some shuffling noises, where he had almost jumped in surprise and relief.

"HANNAH!" he all but screamed. "What the hell?! What is going on? Are you alright? What was with all those tapes? Is it all true? Of course it's all true. Why else would you say that stuff? But it sounded like you were already dead, and then there were rumors about an ambulance going to your house. No one thinks you're dead or anything yet, but oh my god, what is going on?!"

"TONY!" she screamed. "Shut up for a second, alright? I'm fine." This is the part where she knew she'd have to lie, because he wouldn't do anything she asked if he knew the truth. "It was all a big mistake. I was being stupid, and made those tapes out of anger. I'm sorry I got you involved in all this. I'm in a hospital, getting better as we speak, but I need you to do something for me."

It pained her to hear how relieved he sounded. "Anything, Hannah, anything; I'm just so happy you're alive. But why did you send them to me? I'm not on any of the tapes. When I got them I thought people were sending them around as some sick joke, I—"

Hannah felt a pang in her chest when she came to the conclusion that she wouldn't put it past some of her classmates to treat her death like a big joke. "Tony, please stop talking. I sent them to you so if anyone didn't follow along you'd be the one to expose them. Again, I'm sorry. But what I need you to do now is very important. The tapes should be reaching the first person—"

"Justin Foley." Tony recited, interrupting her.

"Yes, they should be at his house tomorrow. I expect he'd find them when he got home from school. Tony, I need you to get to those tapes before he does. I just want to forget this whole thing ever happened, and the only way to do that is to make sure no one ever listens to those tapes."

"But, Hannah," Tony began. "I know you're recovering and everything, but you can't just let some of those people get away with what they did. You need to confront them. _All_ of them. And Clay—"

She can't bear to talk about _him_ right now, so she cuts him off. "Just promise me you'll get the tapes alright? We'll talk about the other stuff later, okay? You can visit me if you want." Hannah _really_ didn't want to see anyone, but thought it sounded like something her pretend hopeful self would say.

"Okay, yeah, sure. I'll do it."

"Thanks, Tony, I'm counting on you. Now I gotta go, I'm not really supposed to be using the phone."

She put the phone back on its receiver before he could say anything else. She had bought herself some time.

She began her walk back to her room. She was slightly surprised by how worried Tony had been. She didn't think anyone would miss her that much if she were gone. But judging by the reactions of the people who knew, she had more people in her corner than she thought she did.

But that still didn't change her mind. Too much had happened already. Maybe if some of these people had shown some interest in her life while all this was going down… but no, they were just getting the "You don't know what you have until it's gone" backlash of what she'd tried to do. She didn't consider it real. As soon as they were convinced she didn't need their undivided attention they would go back letting her fend for herself in a world that seemed to enjoy dragging her down.

When she got back in the room Charlie was whimpering in his sleep and had begun rocking slightly. She sat on the edge of his bed and reached for his shoulder cautiously.

"Hey," she whispered, shaking him. "Charlie, wake up."

"No, please stop!" he shouted as he shot up from bed into a seated position.

"Hey, hey, calm down." She said, wiping his hair off his sweat-dampened forehead.

"H-Hannah?" he asked, blearily, flinching away from her touch.

She immediately got the message and scooted away from him slightly.

"Sorry, I was up and I saw you were having a bad dream. Are you alright?"

"Y-Yeah," he replied, shakily. "Thanks,"

"You're welcome, just remember to extend me the same courtesy." She joked.

He smiled slightly. "Yeah, of course,"

Hannah nodded before going to her own bed. She was about to get under the covers when she paused. "Oh, right, do you want to talk about it?"

Charlie didn't look at her, but shook his head once.

"Alright," She thought about fighting him harder on it, like he had done with her, but the hollow look in his eyes stopped her. She just knew she couldn't help him like he could her, because he wanted help, and she didn't.

"Why are you up?" Charlie asked, obviously not eager to get back to sleep.

"Just had to make a phone call." She said, nonchalantly.

Charlie looked questioningly at the clock on the nightstand, but didn't say anything. Well, except, "Any reason why?"

"Just had to make sure my… little mistake didn't get out there. Here's a tip for you, Charlie, don't document your crazy."

He hesitated, before sheepishly saying. "I kind of already did."

"What?"

"I 'documented my crazy'" he said, Hannah being slightly amused with his use of honest-to-god air quotes. "I wrote all about the year to an anonymous pen pal."

"Wait, wait, wait, hold up." Hannah said, sitting up in bed and turning to him. "You wrote everything down, all about you and everything that happened to you for an entire year and you sent it to a complete stranger you don't even know the name of?"

"Yeah," Charlie said, nonplussed. "I mean, I changed the names and stuff, but yeah. It felt good to do it though."

Hannah just lied back down in bed, shaking her head slightly. "You are something else, Charlie."

* * *

**Let me know if I should continue**


	3. Therapy Blows!

**A/N: Sorry for taking so long on the update, I didn't have many plans for this story before people got interested, but I'm still grateful! Enjoy!**

* * *

"Good morning, Hannah. My name is Dr. Burton. I'm the counselor for all the young adult patients in the ward. How are you feeling today?"

_How am I feeling? _Hannah asked herself. _Well for one thing I'm nervous as hell. I had to go and make all those stupid audio tapes and explain to eleven different people how they ruined my life and made me want to kill myself, but of course I'm such a mess I can't even do _that _properly. Now I have to put my faith and my undecided future into the hands of people like Tony, a kid from school I barely know, and my parents who it took a suicide attempt to start acknowledging my existence again, and you, some lady with a clipboard and a degree on her wall who thinks she can talk to me for an hour a day for a single week in this pointless, wasted life I've found myself in and think I'll suddenly just be happy and move on and not care that not a single person in this stupid town gives a damn about me or anyone besides themselves. My life is complete shit, lady, how do you think I feel?!_

"I'm fine," is what Hannah finally chose to say. "Better, I think."

Dr. Burton gave Hannah a smile, but her eyes clearly contained suspicion, so Hannah continued.

"I will admit I was feeling bad for a while. But what I did last week was going way too far. I guess I just needed this to happen to gain some perspective."

Hannah really wished she could believe what she was saying. That all the pain, and anger, and hopelessness she felt for the past year or so was all something she could call a rough patch in her life. What she wouldn't give to sweep all this under the rug and not feel this horrible emptiness any longer. But she couldn't. She _was_ right about one thing though. Things had gone way too far. Too far to stop what seemed to be the inevitable. This downward spiral she was in had no upturn in sight and she was going to end her descent one way or another.

Dr. Burton didn't seem impressed by her little speech.

They talked for a little while longer. Hannah repeated over and over again how she was feeling a lot better and that the whole "swallowing-a-bottle-of-pills" thing was just her being dramatic. She hadn't realized she could lose even more respect for herself.

Dr. Burton didn't comment on her insistence of being in a better place, just continued to ask her questions. When the hour was up Hannah got out of her chair with a smile and bid her farewells, but before she could exit the door she heard the woman speak.

"Hannah, when you're ready to really talk, and let me know what you're actually feeling instead of telling me what you think you should say, know that my door is always open."

Hannah's face fell. She wanted to turn around, face the woman who had called her out on her lie and scream. Who was she to tell her what she was feeling? How would she know how she felt? How everything seemed to be getting worse and worse with no one seeming to care or notice? This woman knew nothing about Hannah and had no right to act like she did. But instead she stared out the door and waited until she finished, then walked out of the room without a backward glance.

* * *

When Hannah reached her room again she was greeted by an unlikely sight: Charlie and Tony playing cards on his bed while a shoe box laid on her own.

Sheer relief flooded through her at the sight of the brown box. Was it possible that something had gone right in her life for the first time in what felt like forever?

"Hannah!" Tony called when he noticed her leaning on the door frame. He dropped his cards, sprung off the bed and enveloped her in a hug. "It's _so _great to see you!"

"Hey, Tony," she greeted back, a bit half-heartedly knowing that his relief at seeing her alive would be short lived. "Thank you so, so much for getting the tapes back."

"No problem," Tony said nonchalantly, letting her go. "I was in and out of there in like two minutes, no one even saw me. I even got to skip first period gym."

Hannah smiled slightly. "You really are a life saver."

The air in the room suddenly seemed a little too awkward so they migrated back over to the beds to continue their card game. Eventually Charlie was called out for his own counseling session, leaving Tony and Hannah alone together.

"So…" Tony began, trying to fill the empty silence. "Charlie seems pretty cool."

"Oh, yeah, he is." Hannah said. She thought this might be the right time to ask an outside source about her theory. "Does he, um, remind you of anyone?"

Tony looked at her strangely for a moment. "No, not really, why?"

"No reason." Hannah replied quickly, reshuffling the cards. "So, has anyone been asking about me? Do they know yet?"

Tony smiled at her reassuringly. "No, no worries. There are rumors going around that you had appendicitis and were rushed to the hospital for surgery."

"Funny, I thought they'd guess Mono." Hannah muttered bitterly to herself.

Hannah had another question to ask, but couldn't bring herself to voice it. Clearly the "cat-got-your-tongue" expression was clear on her face because Tony said, "You can ask about him, you know."

Oh right, Hannah had forgotten that Tony knew everything she had recorded in her chain letter suicide note. And if he were to retain any of it, Track 9 would be an obvious highlight.

"Okay…" she began, slowly. "How's Clay?"

His mouth twitched, like he wanted to smile. "Alright, I guess. A little more visibly worried than anyone else."

Hannah wanted to smile as those feelings from the party began to bubble up once again, the idea of starting her life over with Clay Jensen bringing on all the cliché butterflies and whatnot. But she knew she couldn't entertain such ideas anymore. Hannah had already made her choice, hell, even made an attempt on it. She didn't need the universally acknowledged nice guy to swoop in and save her from fighting a monster who had already defeated her. What she needed now was to get through this week, and then stop things before they got worse again.

But Tony was still talking. "Maybe one day I could bring him along when I visit—"

"No!" Hannah yelped suddenly. At Tony's shocked look, she went on. "I-I don't want him to see me like this, or know that I was here. Ever."

"You know he wouldn't judge you, right?"

"I know… just promise me you won't say anything to him, okay?"

Tony seemed to hesitate. "Sure, Hannah, whatever you want."

* * *

**To be continued...**


End file.
